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This title was the subheading of a lengthy article in the South London Press on 31st January 1919 (cont. 14th February 1919) detailing the zeppelin air raid of Saturday 23rd September 1916, which saw bombs rain down on South West London. It reports that the first bombs of the raid fell on Bromley-by-Bow shortly after midnight killing five people and injuring several others. Fifteen minutes later ‘the terrifying thunder of incendiary and explosive bombs aroused the inhabitants of Streatham, and then followed the terrible results of one of the most remarkable raids of the series – at all events as far as South London was concerned.’

In an earlier post we told of how London had beefed up its air defences in the early part of 1916 and had successfully averted a zeppelin raid at the beginning of September. A few weeks later however, London was not so lucky and on this occasion the airships used flares to blanket the searchlights, putting the anti aircraft gunners at a disadvantage and enabling the airships to proceed on their deadly course. John Hook also reports in his booklet The Raids on Lambeth and Wandsworth, that the L31 zeppelin, commanded by Heinrich Mathy, was flying ‘unusually high and fast’ at an estimated 12,000 feet, crossing London from south to north and then making its escape.

It is thought that Mathy directed the L31 zeppelin towards London by following the railway line from Eastbourne to London. After Mathy’s flares had dazzled the gunners at Croydon, the airship made its way towards Streatham Common station, dropping bombs on Mr. Tomlin’s vegetable garden at 30 Ellison Road along the way. Some of the railway tracks were then hit, followed by houses on Estreham Road opposite the station. A shop on Greyhound Lane had its windows blown in by an incendiary bomb which left a small crater in the pavement outside. Special Constables rushed to the scene and with the help of local residents began rescuing trapped and injured occupants of the bomb damaged buildings. The Red Cross treated nine casualties who were taken to Streatham Common station, where an emergency first aid post had been set up.

The zeppelin inflicted further damage along Gleneagle Road and Leigham Court Road, but according to at least one source ‘the worst incident of the raid occurred outside Streatham Hill Station.’ Streatham Hill Modern School stood on the junction of Streatham Hill and Sternhold Avenue, next to the station. A bomb exploded in the school’s garden, the blast from which killed four men outright who were on board a tramcar standing outside the station at the time. Another passenger died later from his wounds. The booking office and waiting rooms at Streatham Hill Station were damaged, as well as surrounding properties. Later, as morning dawned it was discovered that there was an unexploded bomb on the roof of Sainsbury’s opposite the station, which had to be removed to safety.

Further explosions erupted further along Streatham Hill, in Pendennis Road, Tierney Road and Telford Avenue, as the zeppelin progressed towards Brixton and on towards Central London. John W. Brown reports in his book Zeppelins Over Streatham: ‘During a period of less than 15 minutes, Heinrich Mathy had dropped a total of 32 bombs on Streatham, comprising 10 explosive and 22 incendiary devices. He had killed seven people and had seriously injured a further 27 in what was the worst night of destruction Streatham had ever known.’

Heinrich Mathy received military honours from the Kaiser for his efforts in penetrating London’s defences, but the L31’s reign was not to last. In a later raid on 1st October 1916 Mathy’s L31 zeppelin was shot down above Potters Bar, Hertfordshire killing Mathy and all 18 of his crew. They were buried in the local churchyard, where the crew of an earlier zeppelin crash had also been buried. In the 1960s their remains were removed to the German Cemetery at Cannock Chase, Staffordshire. Most of the metal from the wreckage of the L31 was used in the war effort. However, in the Potters Bar church of St. Mary the Virgin and All Saints can still be found an altar-cross made from metal taken from the wreck.

The South London Press is available on microfilm at Wandsworth Heritage Service

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Last Saturday afternoon there was quite a crowd gathered around an ordinary looking terraced house on Garratt Lane in Tooting. Passengers on passing buses stared out of the windows to try and work out what all the fuss was about.

The fuss was no greater around this house than it would have been 100 years ago when a 13 year old boy returned there to his family after having fought on the Somme front for six weeks. The boy was Sidney Lewis, tall for his age maybe, but surely not tall enough to pass for the 19 years old he claimed to be upon enrolling with the East Surrey regiment in August 1915. However, he did join up and only much much later did his mother submit his birth certificate to the War Office to prove that he was in fact extremely underage, whereupon he was brought back to England and discharged from service. The Daily Mirror picked up the story and published it along with a photo of the boy soldier in September 1916. 100 years later we all stood outside Sidney’s former house to witness a commemorative plaque being unveiled, funded by public subscription and brought to fruition by the laudable efforts of the Summerstown 182 project.

Sidney’s son Colin unveiled the plaque and his grandson scattered confetti from an upstairs window where a violin played. Colin has said that his father used to talk about having served in World War One but it was thought to be a tall tale as he wouldn’t have been old enough at the time to have served.

A small paragraph in the Wandsworth Borough News on 22nd September 1916 reveals that Sidney’s brother had enlisted in the same regiment at the outbreak of war in 1914, so it is clear that Sidney wanted to follow in his brother’s footsteps. In the latter part of 1915 conscription was yet to be introduced, so the army was desperate for volunteers. Serving on the front line seemingly didn’t deter Sidney from further active service though, as he joined the army again in 1918 and later served in the police force.

Many people are surprised to hear that air raids over London were not exclusive to the Second World War, and that in fact the First World War produced its fair share of nightly terror too. Of course, the scale of the bombing during the First World War did not equal that of the Second World War, but it was fairly significant, especially in the East End. South West London also had its fair share of attacks. John Hook lists 29 raids on Lambeth and Wandsworth between May 1915 and May 1918 in an extract of his book They Come! They Come! This map of the Wandsworth area is a detail from a larger map of London plotting the positions of the bombs that fell, published by the Daily Mail in 1919.

The South Western Star reported on an unsuccessful zeppelin air raid that took place on the night of 2nd September 1916. The journalist seems to relish the excitement in his reporting of the event, setting the scene as though he is writing a suspense novel.

He goes on to report that although by late evening people in central London were panicking and trying to get home because of the imminent zeppelin raid, ‘no tidings of the raid reached Battersea until well after midnight.’ Even then, he insinuates that the warnings were largely ignored and ‘like the wise people they are, the inhabitants of Battersea went to bed, not willing to lose the prospect of a good night’s rest.’ When gunfire disturbed their sleep in the early hours of the morning, it is reported that despite warnings to stay inside, hordes of people hurried outdoors to see what was going on. If this was indeed the case, it implies that this was a novelty and hadn’t been experienced locally up to that point, otherwise surely people would have recognised the danger and heeded the warnings not to venture out. However, it appears that those living in the vicinity of Clapham Common headed there in order to get as clear a view as they could of the night sky, and were rewarded with a searchlight display followed by a clear view to the north of ‘the ribbon-like form of a Zeppelin.’ They then watched as the zeppelin was engulfed in flame and slowly fell to earth. It was reported that ‘the light in the sky was brighter than any that Londoners had seen before, and a red glare quickly spread over the Common.’

Jerry White’s book Zeppelin Nights gives an insight into the lead up to this thwarted air raid on 2nd September. In February 1916, there had been what he describes as an ‘ill-tempered debate’ in the House of Commons during which Lloyd George admitted Britain had been ‘very remiss’ in its neglect of air defence. During the next six months London reorganised its home defence squadron, attained more guns and searchlights and achieved better coordination. The public of course were unaware of these additional precautions, so nightly blackouts and unease continued during the summer months of 1916 even though there was a lull in zeppelin attacks. This had ended just a week before the raid I have been describing, with a raid by twelve airships on South East London which was largely unsuccessful. By the time this was followed up with the raid of 2nd September, the London defences were ready. These consisted of sixteen zeppelins, not one of which managed to hit their London targets. White writes: ‘Lieutenant W. Leefe Robinson of 39 Squadron at Sutton’s Farm achieved the first victory of London’s air war by bringing down around 2.30am SL11, a wooden airship, which fell in flames close to the village of Cuffley in Hertfordshire.’ It is approximately 30 miles from Clapham Common to Cuffley, so whether the crowd there would actually have seen the zeppelin’s demise as reported is open for discussion.

A cheer reportedly went up on Clapham Common as the crowd ‘gave way to one heartfelt cry of relief and triumph.’ 200 special constables and nurses had been standing by at Lavender Hill police station, but were dismissed when the danger had passed without need of their services. It is reported that ‘shortly after the Zeppelin had been destroyed, each man instinctively bared his head, and the National Anthem was sung.’ This after all was a visible sign of the allies striking a blow to the enemy, which must have stirred up everyone’s patriotism. John Burns was among the crowd on Clapham Common watching the spectacle that night. He seems to have approved of the measures that had been taken to improve London’s air defences, reportedly saying to some soldiers: “We are all right in London. Our defences are perfect. We have only lost a little over 400 lives after two years of war – not equal to one day’s casualties at the front.”

Unfortunately it wasn’t long until the German military regrouped and launched another airship attack on London, this time managing to break through London’s ‘perfect’ defences and striking a blow on South West London.

A look at the edition of the South London Press on 30th June 1916 reveals the local papers trying to cling on to a vestige of hope as the war reaches nearly two years’ duration. As its name implies, the South London Press covers a broader area that just Wandsworth (it seems particularly keen on Southwark) and at Wandsworth Heritage Service we hold more relevant local newspapers from this period to this borough. However, as the WW1 centenary approached and we began to notice an increase in visitors wanting to consult the local papers for reports of war casualties, it was a struggle to find any. A glance through the Tooting & Balham Gazette or the South Western Star during 1916 found it was business as usual, with lengthy descriptions of ‘pretty weddings’ and detailed reports of sporting events, but barely a mention of the ‘war to end all wars.’

By May of 1916 the South London Press who had been up to this point reporting on their front page any officers killed during warfare in a column entitled ‘In Memorium,’ decided to step up and list local people serving in the war of all ranks, reported dead or wounded. This is made possible by the Press Bureau’s identification of the area that the casualties’ next of kin belong to. In issuing this first list of local casualties the newspaper managed to find an optimistic point of view, which in hindsight is quite sobering in its naivety.

In the edition of 30th June 2016 the regular column ‘In Memorium’ includes a short biography of the recently killed Lieutenant Henry Cyril Dixon Kimber of the Royal Field Artillery. Born in Streatham he was the grandson of a former M.P. for Wandsworth, Sir Henry Kimber, and a fairly lengthy paragraph describes his family, University education and war record, including his part in the battle of Loos.

Compare this fitting tribute on page 3 of the newspaper with what is described as ‘detailed lists of South Londoners killed and wounded’ on page 5. Not even a full name is given in this ‘detailed list’, and the brevity of the individual entries feels familiar to us reading them now, accustomed as we are to the crowded lists of names on First World War memorials.

Indeed, the habit of only listing casualties’ initials and surnames has led to great difficulty in recent times when communities have tried to research the people listed on their local war memorials. An unusual surname can help with identification, but an E. Brown and E.L. Smith have so far eluded the Summerstown182 team.

Two things strike me when looking at this list of war casualties in the South London Press. Firstly, the reporter continues to try and comfort the contemporary reader and allay their alarm at the sight of such a list of names, as can be seen in their introduction to the column below.

I’m not sure the phrase ‘upwards of 60 per cent of those wounded are able to resume their places in the firing line’ was very comforting to those invalided out.

Secondly the juxtaposition of the war casualties with a column entitled: ‘Accidents and Fires in South London’ is interesting. This heralds the solemn reporting of a bizarre range of incidents described as ‘Many Happenings in Few Lines.’ These include a joiner, Alfred Palmer being knocked off his cycle outside Nine Elms station and a domestic servant named Annie Clarke being struck by a cricket ball near Clapham Common. The ‘Few Lines’ that describe these accidents are in fact more numerous and detailed than the supposed ‘detailed lists’ of war casualties alongside them. These unfortunate victims of local calamities are given their full name, age, address and occupation as well as details of the hospital they were taken to for treatment. The reader can probably picture and therefore empathise with the victims of these misfortunes much more easily than with the brief snapshot beside it of an unimaginable horror of war.

Further local reporting of war related matters reveals a faintly jolly sounding timetable for the 5th Battalion Wandsworth Volunteers (Headquarters: 123 Trinity Road, Upper Tooting). Regular battalion drills on Heathfield Ground and ‘trench work’ are very much the order of the day, but on Wednesday they get a break from drilling and are required to attend a fete and gala at Springfield War Hospital from 2pm til 9pm. The note at the end of the schedule reminding them of a camp that is to be arranged for three weeks in July and August completes the impression of activities more suited to boy scout troops.

A small paragraph at the bottom of page 3 really represents the local paper’s overall mission to inspire the local people with ideas of how they can help the war effort in their own way. The fact that the owner of the celebrated garden is not named nor the specific address given, leads one to wonder if it actually existed. If it did, I do hope they enjoyed eating their beans and didn’t miss their flowers too much.

The South London Press, Tooting & Balham Gazette & South Western Star are all available on microfilm (Wandsworth Heritage Service)

Commonwealth War Graves Commission have a record of Lieutenant Kimber here.

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The Wandsworth Borough News of 23rd June carried the story ofJames Bartaby of Bedford Hill, with the headline “Balham Youth’s Heroism”. He was 15, but at 13 and 7 months he had enlisted in the 7th East Surrey Regiment and reached the trenches before he was 14. Three months of training in England had not shown up that he was underage, and he spent nine months in the trenches before he was wounded by shrapnel. In hospital they realised that he was underage and sent him home.

This did not put James Bartaby off his desire to join up. He ran away and joined the 3rd East Surrey Regiment, and had nearly finished his training before his mother discovered where he was and alerted the authorities. A letter from her reached Dover as he was starting for France and he was once again sent home.

A medal card for him shows that he was discharged on 18 November 1915, having entered France on 1st June 1915. Trying to find out more about him is difficult, as the only James Bartaby coming up on the 1911 census is from Doncaster, the 8 year old son of Walter and Jane – a Walter Bartaby is listed at Cavendish Road in the 1915 Kelly’s directory, but his census entry shows that he and his wife only had daughters living.

James’s army pension form is available on Ancestry, showing that he claimed he was 18 (and 2 months) and a plumber. He appears to have made several attempts to join up – some of the details are from 1917 – so having been brought home this week in 1916, and injured in 1915, obviously didn’t put him off trying to serve.

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The Batstone family, as mentioned in this post, kept the majority of their letters and many diaries, which give a great insight into how one family dealt with the war. They had two young children when Walter was called up, and in this week in June 1916 he was away training whilst Maree tried to handle things at home.

Maree Batstone only wrote one diary entry this week, which started with her receiving two letters from her husband Walter in the morning and afternoon posts. Walter was training in Edinburgh, based in Bruntsfield School, and in his letter explained that he had “been re-drafted + Am now in the 9th draft (when last I sw you I was in the 7th). Dye & I & abot 12 men are on the board tonight as drafted with the 9th draft, isn’t it amusing. I am afraid I have this job at any rate tomorrow – I shall be glad when it is over”.

According to Maree’s diary, the “job” was that of Orderly Corporal – meaning long days, Walter even includes a schedule of his day for her, starting at 4.45am. At 5.30am he had to do the rounds to ask is anyone was going sick and take details, at 6am they had to attend at Gillespie School with a list of defaulters (this is James Gillespie’s School, which is 5- 10 minutes walk away). By 7am he was making out sick reports in triplicate and breakfast was at 7.45am. Lights out were at 10.15pm, after a day of sorting mail and other duties – “you are always on duty and liable to provide men for any emergency – today, two men to fetch beer for the sergeants mess”.

His second latter was dealing more with family business and answering questions she had sent him, including whether or not he required his birth certificate. There was also a complicated answer to a question about the family account with the piano tuner, where it was not clear if the account had been paid – something that became more complex due to all discussions having to be done by post. Maree appeared to be struggling slightly with their daughter Molly, who was a toddler, Walter’s response was hopefully lighthearted: “Am so very sorry you are having such a beast of a time with Molly – she is a naughty little swab-hound and ought to be spanked, can you pack her off (as a boarder) to Em’s School?”

The rest of Maree’s day revolved around cycling into town to get Devonshire cream for her Aunt Emily’s birthday, shopping for her mother, and trying to put the children to bed early – slightly disturbed by a visitor coming after they had been bathed.

The Battersea Borough Council meeting of 7 June started by acknowledging the death of Lord Kitchener, and expressed their sorrow at his loss by all standing as a mark of respect. The meeting then moved on to discuss the Council and Military Service, and how to deal with potential exemptions from military service.

Three clerks of military age in the Council had received complete exemption from military service, on account of being indispensable. Overall there were 28 officers and clerks of military age working at the municipal buildings (Battersea Town Hall), 17 of whom were permanent and had occupation based exemption. Three temporary clerks were medically unfit to service, and one had actually been discharged as medically unfit. There were 5 who were not yet called up – either due to only just being 18 or to being in later groups under the Derby scheme. It was argued that there was a great deal of extra work in the Council due to pressures from government and that there was no doubt that all the men who had obtained exemptions could not be spared. Eight of the permanent staff in the borough accountant’s office had joined the army, and six from the Town Clerk’s department, with six exemptions granted across both offices. Exemption certificates had been obtained directly from the recruiting officer, rather than going before a tribunal – a fact which caused some controversy as the Councillors (9 of whom also made up the tribunal members) felt that exemption was a personal matter which should be dealt with by each man individually and they did not wish the employees of the Council to receive special privilege.

The Council had already decided that employees who wished to serve should gain the permission of the Council to do so, and at this meeting they granted that permission to E T Taylor, a temporary clerk in the Town Clerk’s office, and W Worrell, a sewer flusher. Presumably the loss of the clerk made it even more important that they were able to keep the remaining staff in order to carry out the work of the Council.

The Tribunals this week, as reported in the South Western Star, appear to have been granting more exemptions than usual – although the corresponding minutes show that this was not the case and the majority of cases were disallowed. W J Baldwin of Rollo Street was a widower with one child, who claimed he would have to sell his home to ensure they were looked after – and that he objected to vaccination. The Tribunal said that his child would be cared for by the country if he went and disallowed his claim, the Star headlined this with “The Poor Law for a Soldier’s Child”.